Apex
by Begoogled
Summary: Reed and T'Pol are in a tight spot.
1. Chapter 1

**Apex**

A/N: Beta'd by Kathy Rose

* * *

"Careful, Commander," Lt. Malcom Reed cautioned as T'Pol climbed over a smooth boulder. It was only one of the many obstacles that made their journey a tiring business. He himself had almost lost his footing earlier on the dusty gravel that covered most of this hillside. Their guide was several steps ahead, moving surprisingly agile for a man his age and who was built like Humpty Dumpty. Brotun was a man of science. He also praised his wife's cooking skills any chance he had. He currently was in the midst of a monologue about one of her dishes, and the steep climb seemed neither to dampen his enthusiasm nor make him short-winded.

To Malcolm's left, far below, the ocean crashed against the side of the cliff. The palisade rose up sharply out of the water, rising some 150 feet to where small bushes, rocks and a lone tree stood watch. They were walking right along the edge of a plateau, and there were no safeguards or man-made steps on this steep path, only the spectacular view of the sea. It was something to behold, though Malcolm rather wished for a different vista. But he was doing his duty, and nothing could take him away from that.

Brotun's treatise on Bejuun sausages seemed to have finally ended, and Malcolm looked up to see Brotun waving them farther. Malcolm quickened his stride, catching up with T'Pol.

The away team had met in the town hall for a meeting with the council. Here they were introduced to the history and culture of the Nolan people, a small community of spacefarers who had wandered across the galaxy for several generations before they had decided to settle on this moon. That had been fourteen season cycles ago, and T'Pol had calculated that one cycle was about six earth years.

After Captain Archer had introduced each one of the away team, Kaya, an elderly woman who had been a child when the Nolan had landed on their new world, had immediately suggested that T'Pol might be interested in the Wind Catcher. She explained that on arrival, they had found remnants of an older civilization. Most of it had been in bad condition, and was of no use to the Nolan, but the stone tower that stood high over the village seemed untouched by the forces of nature. Inside, said Kaya, was an intricate design of stones and metal that seemed to denote time and the seasons. There were also inscriptions that they had not been able to decipher. She hoped that perhaps a Vulcan might recognize the markings, for there were some similarities to that language in its written form, and would be able to help them with the translation.

Captain Archer gave his approval, and was quite interested in seeing this Wind Catcher for himself, but he sent Malcolm along, since he and Trip would be looking at the energy system the Nolan had build out of their ships. Not all of the space ships had been dismantled, and the Enterprise crew had been impressed by their sleek design.

Malcolm reached a desolate landing where T'Pol had stopped to look at the gray-blue horizon. Wave caps formed horizontal ridges that grew in size as they slowly moved toward them. He followed a wave until it rolled out of sight. The roar of the water as it crashed against the rocks far below was mesmerizing. Malcolm wondered if Vulcans also could have a feeling of awe, or if T'Pol was simply calculating how deep the sea bottom was, based on the height and speed of the waves.

Brotun was hopping back toward them, impatient in his enthusiasm to show them the tower that was now into view. He had almost reached their side when the ground started to move.

-=-=-=-=-=-

T'Pol had been studying the sea, impressed by the view and the mass of moving water. She heard the rumble even before everything began to tremble. Her first instinct was to hunker down, finding support near one of the ancient boulders. She heard a terrified cry, and she raised her head to see their guide staggering, his heavy body moving as if intoxicated. His face was a mask of surprise, and his eyes bulged as he realized how close he was to the precipice. Unable to change his momentum, tottering on the brink, he shrieked again, the sound almost primal, and it shook T'Pol as much as the trembling underneath her feet. Before she could move toward him, Reed had already pushed past her, stretching his arms toward the Nolan scientist.

Forcing her mind to focus and assess the situation, she realized in an instant that both men would perish if she remained where she was. The ground shook savagely, and fragments of rock skidded past her. She started moving toward the two men.

Ahead of her, Reed dove to the ground, trying to snatch the elderly man's legs as he started to plummet. His hands only touched cold air. She heard Reed let out a curse that suddenly turned into a gasp as his body started to roll toward the same fate.

T'Pol let herself fall less than gracefully to the ground, creating as much friction with the rock surface as possible as she took hold of Reed's arms. As he started over the edge, feet first, she could feel him slipping from her grasp. She barely had time to re-establish her hold on his wrists before he completely fell from view.

There was only loose gravel supporting her, and she slid four inches closer to the edge, before her knee hit a crack in the stone. The lieutenant gave a grunt when her fingernails drove deeper into his skin. She clasped his wrists in a vice-like grip. She knew she was strong enough to pull him up. If she could just regain her footing… The jagged edge of the cliff was cutting through the fabric of her uniform, and her arms were burning, demanding relief.

Finally, the ground stopped shaking, and for a moment they were both silent, their precarious situation sinking in.

"Lieutenant, can you find a foothold?" she asked through clenched teeth. She could only see the top of his head as he tried to look around. He shifted his weight slightly, and she closed her eyes. She could feel even the smallest movement as Reed tracked the almost vertical wall with his feet. He tried to push himself off against the surface, but it had been smoothed down by centuries of wind erosion. She could feel it all through his arms, muscles taut, as if their linked arms were a steel cable from the Golden Gate Bridge, reverberating with every truck that passed.

He kept at it for several seconds, and T' Pol could feel a trickle of blood as her knee pressed deeper into the stone. She opened her eyes just in time to see him glance up with a fearful look in his.

"There's nothing here."

His breathing sounded ragged in the Vulcan's sensitive ears. A thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow, but his hands were icy cold. T' Pol tried to suppress a shiver.

"My own position is too unstable. I need to find a secure hold."

The wind had picked up again, and the smell of brine and decay, mixed with the roar of the ocean waves beating on the cliff below, were like a hungry le-matya, ready to devour if she made one wrong move.

She turned her head, slowly, searching for anything that she could hook her leg behind: a tree root, a heavy boulder… There was a small bush to her right, but she doubted it would hold both of them.

She barely heard the beep of her communicator over the rushing of the wind. It could be the captain, or maybe Enterprise asking for their status. Sensors must have registered the heavy quakes in this area. If she could just reach for her communicator…

If she were able to contact Enterprise, the transporter could beam them back to the ship, but her communicator was still in her pocket, unfairly close but out of reach. And no one on Enterprise knew that they were in grave danger. Long-range sensors would not discern if two communicators were on the path, or dangling a meter off it.

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by Reed's exclamation.

"Commander, if one of us could free a hand, we might be able to contact Enterprise, and use the transporter!"

Both had come to the same conclusion, and she made up her mind. "Agreed. I will let go of your left hand, so that you can retrieve your communicator. Try to refrain from any major movements."

Their communicators gave another series of beeps, urging her into action.

"Ready, Lieutenant?" She breathed out, feeling the adrenaline through every part of her body. Her voice had sounded emotional, but this was not the time for breathing techniques and meditation. Their eyes met.

"Ready." Even those two syllables were thick with his British accent, and she could feel his distress tingling her skin. She knew this fear did not come so much from the abyss he was hanging over right now, as he had no control over that situation. As T'Pol had observed the man over the years, it was one thing that Reed had no tolerance for. But the look in his gray eyes had changed. They showed calm, as if he had accepted his fate. And that frightened her even more. T'Pol did not want those eyes to haunt her. She took another breath, and then let go.

The sudden shift of weight had a greater impact than T'Pol had calculated. In the millisecond that it took her to move her free hand to clasp Reed's other arm, she felt her body being dragged over the gravel. It was just a fraction, but her knee could not hold on to the shallow crack that had held them up all this time. Her whole body was now sliding over the ledge, and suddenly she had a wide view of the Nolan coastline, giving her a sense of vertigo.

"Let go!" Reed shouted in desperation. Enforcing his cry, he loosened his grip on her wrist.

She could no longer hold on to his arm. She clawed with her other hand for him, the cuff of his uniform, anything, as he fell away.

"No." Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

Her forward motion stopped just in time. Her temples were throbbing, and the wind was howling around her ears, forcing tears in her eyes. She saw Reed hit the water, and then he was out of sight.

Her breath froze in her throat as she frantically scrambled away from the edge of the cliff. Her hand was shaking as she opened the communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise!"

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_As you might have guessed, this is my (late!) Drown Malcolm Month story :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews!_

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What they said about "seeing your whole life flash before your eyes", well, that was not completely true. There was actually just one memory that replayed over and over in his mind as he plunged toward the water. It had been a sweltering summer day as he had stood on the edge of a deep swimming pool. The instructor had looked each cadet in the eye as he barked, "Don't curl up in a ball, or go in head first! You men have more sense than that! Nobody is keeping scores; we're teaching you how to survive!"

Malcolm kept his feet together, put one hand over his private parts and the other under his chin. He clenched his buttocks, remembering that the rush of water might otherwise cause internal damage. He tried to anticipate the impact, but the freezing water still took him by surprise. As his clothes soaked up the salty water, he made a desperate attempt to swim to the surface. But the water was chaotic, pushing him in all directions, until he wasn't even sure which way was up. He felt as if lead had been tied to his ankles and arms, and he was quickly running out of air.

Suddenly, another wave swept him upward, and he felt a blessed breeze caress his face. His lungs gasped for oxygen, and he choked on a mouthful of brine. Coughing and shivering, Malcolm kicked his feet, slapping the water with his hands. Any further instructions that had been bouncing around in his head had been erased when he had hit the water. He was very close to the cliff, and waves crashed against the slick, green surface. The roar was deafening.

Malcolm was about to look for an outcropping on which he might climb, when the next wave dragged him under. As he flailed his arms, trying to regain control of his movements, Malcolm's hip grazed against something solid. Before he had time to react, his head was smashed against the protruding rock. A flash of pain seared him, then…darkness.

-=-=-=-=-=-

He was drifting, up and down on the waves. But he felt warm and secure. Then he started to notice the all-too-familiar sounds. Sickbay. They had done it again. Saved his sorry behind when he was this close to dying. Malcolm thought he had been through enough of these aquatic adventures. Couldn't the Grim Reaper go on a holiday for a while? He'd gladly give him some exotic destinations that would be worth his while. The smile that thought brought to his lips was accompanied by a coughing fit.

When his body finally relaxed again, Malcolm felt the throbbing near his hip. He remembered hitting a rock just before passing out, and the ache seemed to spread like maple syrup on a pancake. Then again, he thought, things could have been much worse. He could have hit one of the many jagged rocks while falling toward the ocean floor.

Any drugs inside his system were starting to wear off. Now that he was more awake, the absence of voices surprised him. He'd been in a lot of mishaps over the years, and he was rarely alone when he woke up from his slumbers. He was not a fan of Sickbay, but Phlox tutting over him seemed to have a calming effect on him, giving him a touchstone after harrowing and sometimes unreal adventures. And Trip would be there, if not lying in the adjacent bio bed as a conspirator with his own bumps and bruises, then at least sitting by his bedside to cheer him up. Or have his hide. Malcolm grimaced. It was more than not a combination of the two.

Accepting that to get more Intel on his predicament, he had to take the first step, Malcolm summoned his courage and opened his eyes. He almost bolted upright as a pair of hazel eyes stared back at him only inches from his face. T'Pol seemed startled as well, and she hastily took a step backwards.

As the adrenaline left his body, he absently rubbed his eyes and face, carefully avoiding the bruise near his left temple. As he felt the stubble on his chin, he had an odd sense of déjà vu. Frowning, he looked again at T'Pol, who had remained silent. He never thought he would use the phrase on a Vulcan, but T'Pol looked… sheepish. He wondered what she was thinking.

"I did not mean to disturb you," she finally offered.

"Where is Doctor Phlox?" he replied, his voice sounding like the gravel on that ill-fated hillside. It hurt to talk.

He noticed that T'Pol was still wearing the same catsuit from their away mission. There were tears on the sleeves, a dark splotch coloured the right knee, and she was completely covered in a film of gray dust.

He must have been staring, because she quickly brushed at a lock of hair that was sticking out in a very un-Vulcan like manner. Then she locked her hands behind the small of her back, and she seemed to regain some equilibrium.

"Doctor Phlox is currently on the surface, assisting the Nolan in their medical ward. There were a great number of injured, as part of their Trilycerate mine collapsed. Captain Archer has not yet returned to Enterprise, but requested that Commander Tucker and some of his engineers transport down to assist with recovery operations."

If Phlox was not on Enterprise, then the doctor had probably deemed his patient healthy enough to return to his quarters, Malcolm surmised. He started to throw the light blanket off, then paused again, as T'Pol was still there, unmoving, her features once again unreadable.

"I take it that Doctor Phlox gave me a clean bill of health?" Malcolm had been in so many near-drowning situations that his recovery in Sickbay seemed to have become as common as a check-up at the dentist. An unpleasant but short visit, and certainly nothing to get upset about. Or so he tried to convince himself.

T'Pol answered, "He monitored you, until he was certain you were out of danger and not in need of his care." Her gaze shifted away for a moment. "I requested to keep you company until you were awake."

Surprised by that admonition, Malcolm did not know what to say. His fall had been an unfortunate turn of events, but he was just happy to be alive. Which reminded him… "Did you find Brotun?"

Emotion flitted across T'Pol's face. "We were able to locate you through your communicator, but we had difficulty tracing his vital signs. When he finally was beamed on board, there was little brain activity." Her voice was soft and low. "Phlox was unable to resuscitate him."

Malcolm thought of the cheerful Brotun, and his excitement at sharing his discoveries with fellow scientists. Then his memory conjured up the piercing cry that had left the Nolan's mouth in his final moments. He jerked his head, trying to make it stop.

He wanted to ask if Brotun's body had been returned to his people, but his lungs started to ache, and he had another coughing fit.

T'Pol quickly reached over and handed him a cup of water with a straw. He was sipping in between coughs when the sickbay doors opened and Trip strolled in.

"Malcolm! About time you woke up," he drawled with a big grin.

Trip stopped at the foot of the bed, looking askance at T'Pol. "Am I interrupting somethin' ?"

"I must return to the bridge," she replied smoothly. "Unless there is something that you need, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm understood her need for retreat, and gave her a tight smile. "I'm all right. I'll go to my quarters to rest." He started to get up from the bio bed again, wincing as his head started to throb in rhythm with his hip. He glanced at Trip, who was looking at him intently. "Maybe Commander Tucker could give me a hand," he croaked.

Trip tossed a salute. "At your service." The engineer stepped closer and Malcolm divided his weight between the man's shoulder and the bed. Gingerly, he put his bare feet on the deck.

"Good night, Lieutenant. Commander." T'Pol moved away.

Trip called after her. "Uh… T'Pol?"

She paused at the open doors. "Yes?"

"You might want to change into something more comfortable first." Trip waved at her dust-covered uniform, wiggling an eyebrow.

Her own eyebrow formed a perfect arch in return. "That would be a logical course of action."

The doors closed behind her, and Trip looked back at Malcolm, who was wobbling slightly on the cold floor. He let out a snort. "We better get you into somethin' decent as well," he said as he nodded at the paper gown.

"Just get me some footwear and a robe," Malcolm answered with irritation, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He had been so occupied with his bruised body that he'd forgotten about his attire. He should have stayed in bed until T'Pol had left. Oh, well. They both hadn't been at their best.

"I thought you were on the planet," he asked as Trip helped him into a white bathrobe.

"I was, helping the Nolan stabilize the mine shaft. They got everyone out, but some of them were hurt badly. Phlox has been a great help to the medics." Trip offered his arm, but Malcolm waved him off. "Captain Archer sent me back to the ship for a bite to eat. I'm also picking up some tools to help repair power cables, since the hospital is still running on the emergency generator."

They were slowly moving through the corridors, Malcolm once needing to rest for a moment. He pressed both hands against the bulkhead, and then lifted his gaze toward Trip again. "So, where were you and the captain during the earthquake?"

The engineer scratched his head, and a faint trace of dust drifted toward the deck.

_And he was teasing T'Pol about her scruffy looks_, Malcolm thought wryly.

"We didn't go to the power plant immediately. They were giving us a tour of the botanical gardens, where they do research on crops. We were lucky to be out in the fields. I saw several of the greenhouses fall apart." Trip frowned. "The Nolan were in a complete panic. It seems they never have experienced an earthquake before."

Malcolm coughed, and then commented, "That's odd. I'm even more surprised that Enterprise's sensors didn't pick up any signs."

Trip shook his head. "That's the strange thing. Hoshi told me that there was a huge energy spike coming from a point to the north of the village, just before sensors picked up the seismic activity."

Malcolm forgot about his aching body for a moment. "The Wind Catcher?"

"It's a mystery, but I bet that T'Pol is working on the answer right now," Trip shrugged.

"Yes, I have no doubt she will get to the bottom of this," Malcolm agreed.

"Say… T'Pol seemed to be quite worried about you." Trip tried to hide his smile as they started walking again. "Not that I wasn't, either!" he quickly added.

Malcolm thought a moment before replying. "I think she is performing her duty as first officer admirably," and before Trip could roll his eyes, he said, "I believe she has come to care about me. I mean us. The crew!" He shook a finger at Trip, daring him to laugh.

For once, the engineer didn't tease him about his faux pas. "You know what? I think you're right. And she's now comfortable enough around us – the crew - to show a little hint of the true T'Pol. Her inner feelings." Trip's voice sounded sober.

As they entered the turbolift, Malcolm rested his head against the wall. He met Trip's gaze, the engineer's blue eyes looking grave. They both felt the mood shift.

"Anything you want to share about your experience down there?" Trip asked.

Malcolm pressed his lips, hearing the faint echo of someone screaming. "I saw a man fall to his death." His voice was low, the words clipped. "I was not sure if I was going to make it." His Adams apple moved painfully in his throat.

Trip was nodding his head. "Hanging from a cliff some 150 feet above the ocean would make any man fear for his life," he said softly.

"T'Pol wasn't able to pull me up, and the gravel almost got her sliding over the edge as well. I yelled at her to let go." He balled his fists, reliving the moment.

Trip rested a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "She's safe."

Malcolm nodded, not able to look him in the eye. He was clenching his jaw, and it took some effort to speak again. "The water was bad, and it took a lot of my strength to reach the surface. I was dragged under again--" His voice halted, and Trip squeezed his shoulder in support. "--and I smashed into one of the submerged rocks. It was a relief to lose consciousness."

The turbolift's doors opened, and they moved quietly into the corridor. When they neared Malcolm's quarters, Trip finally spoke. "You're a heck of an officer, Malcolm. Inventive and brave. That doesn't mean that an experience like that just slides off your back." He gave Malcolm's shoulder another pat. "I need to head back to the surface, but we'll talk more later, if you want."

Malcolm gave him a tired smile, the rush of emotions slipping back in the cool compartments of his soul. He was grateful for Trip's support. And they would talk, when he was ready.

"Anything I can do for you?" his friend asked as Malcolm keyed the door open. As if on cue, Malcolm's stomach gave an indignant growl. "Dinner sounds good," he said with a grimace.

"I'll ask Chef to bring you something. Anything in particular you'd like?"

"As long as it's heaped up and hot. They say that swimming whets the appetite." Malcolm was starting to relax again, and his soft bed was calling his name.

Trip gave him a mock glare, then chuckled as Malcolm's stomach asked a question. "I better get to it, before your intestines start to revolt."

Malcolm laughed with him. "Good luck with the repairs, Trip."

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." With a wave, the engineer was gone.

The door slid closed behind him, and Malcolm stepped towards his bed. He carefully lay down, sighing in relief as the pain in his hip started to dull. He put his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

He thought of how lucky he was to be still alive. T'Pol's quick action and the technology of the transporter had saved him. It just stung that their communicators had been out of reach when they had needed them the most. Come to think of it, there had been several situations in the past when communications had been hindered while evacuation of the away team had been crucial.

Malcolm frowned. Such a flaw in their operations was unacceptable. There had to be a better way to anticipate an evacuation. Timing was everything, as they had found out today. They needed something simple: small yet effective. The gears in Malcolm's head were already turning at full speed. Ensign Müller might be able to help him with this one. A smirk started blossoming. And he might just have the right name for it…

THE END

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_If you want to know what new device Malcolm came up with, (re)read Volley's story, "Perceptions and Delusions"!_**  
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